Ready for some football?

College campuses are all Edens; inspiring, intellectually stimulating, and really bad with math–at least the athletic departments. As it stands now many large, well-known conferences are shuffling teams faster than a single deck twenty-one dealer with a full table.

Ironically, the Big Ten now has 12 teams and the Big 12 has 10.  The Pac-10 has 12 and a full one third of them are not anywhere near the Pac (Pacific). They are either in the desert or the mountains.

I understand the need for change and getting teams settled into the best possible setting to display their athletic prowess. Schools grow and many change their focus over time, but while doing so they shouldn’t expose their lack of a desire to be completely accurate on all fronts. After all, they do compose our higher educational system, the silver bullet for sustaining our revered democracy. They must lead by example.

Athletic conferences have shifted from time to time for years, but not until recently have they not accurately reflected the number of tribes representing their nation. Some have chosen names that will stand and have stood the test of time. Harvard and Yale started playing football against each other in 1875. They and the six other ancients chose the Ivy League as their collective title around the turn of the twentieth century. It didn’t become official until 1954 when the NCAA stuck its nose into the fray and designated representative divisions. The Ivy League has stayed intact ever since with no changes on the horizon.

The Big East, Southwest, and Atlantic conferences will always work too. They can add or eliminate teams with impunity and still hold an accurate moniker. The Mountain West is fine even if they carry out their plan by adding two and subtracting one. The problem stems from those pesky numerically named conferences when they get the itch to see how much more television money they can snag by adding, trading, or exiling teams.

The Big Ten, having more teams than the Big 12, should rename itself the Big Dozen or So. Rumor has it that they would like to go all the way to 16 teams. If so, maybe Chock Full O’Teams would be better. The Big 12 having lost some schools should be the Big Several.

With teams all over the topographical map, the Pac-10 wants to change its name, this time to the Pac-12. They have had numerical representation from five to 12–enough! They should be the Pacific-Mountain-Desert Conference. That doesn’t sound poetic. Maybe it could be even more general and be dubbed the School of Schools West of the Mississippi. That may not float either. They could always revert to 1959 and their original name, the Athletic Association of Western Universities (AAWU) but that is really boring so how about the Couple-a-Hands-Full Conference for the time being?

The best news coming out of my massive renaming project is that with so many numerals being freed up by conferences moving from definite to indefinite titles, Notre Dame, the staunch independent, could pick up a loose digit and dub itself the Gigantic One Conference. That may accurately represent their ego, but unfortunately, it won’t solve what may become their next biggest problem. Due to conferences around the country picking up teams at a frantic clip, in the near future there may not be room on any team’s schedule for the unattached Fighting Irish. They may have to invent football’s version of the Washington Generals, a la the Harlem Globetrotters, to find someone to line up against their golden domes. Either that or play BYU 12 times each year if they choose independency too.

Too complicated? Perhaps we should return to the days of leather helmets and few pads, play the schools on our own blocks who are about our same size, eschew complex NCAA rules, and play the game for fun. I don’t think football was ever designed to be big business. It’s not a good fit. Let’s keep both money and any conference names containing definite team counts completely away from the collegiate game.

Language Usage Change Alert

Capital S status for the sixties

By: Terry Donnelly

1960 was the year John F. Kennedy won the presidency and marked the beginning of the 60s calendar decade. By then the cyclone of activity calling for huge changes in America was already near warp speed. The sixties got a forty-niners type jump-start before the decade actually began and then dribbled over past its numerical endpoint.

1955 was the year that Rosa Parks gave the figurative thumbs down to a request to move to the back of the bus, got arrested for said insubordination, and ushered in the year-long Montgomery, Alabama bus boycott that, along with the Ku Klux Klan’s murder of Chicago teenager Emmet Till earlier that year, got the snowball of civil rights activism rolling downhill and gaining momentum. 1955 was also about the time America started nosing around and sending advisory personnel to assist in a certain civil war in Southeast Asia. Youthful protesters started honing their skills and perfecting their trade a full five years before the new decade arrived.

By 1960 the stage was already set for the ensuing years of activism through sit-ins, boycotts, picket lines, marches, takeovers of college campus buildings, and student and ghetto riots, to cite a few examples (Let’s not forget Rock and Roll). This youth rebellion spawned tons of like-minded activity inviting anyone who wanted to be a part to either get involved or, at least, sit up and take notice.

By the time the numerical end of the decade was rolling around in 1968 and 1969 protest activity and demand for change in the status quo had reached a frenzied pitch. The civil rights movement, which had its roots in nonviolent protests, had lost its leader, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., to assassination. After 1965 the movement began to settle into large cities and after MLK’s assassination, was led by Black Panthers whose “motis operands” turned to violence. Activists were buoyed by successes in effecting change during the early and middle years of the 60s including the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the 1965 Voting Rights Act. Matching civil rights activists step for step were the Vietnam War protestors calling for America’s withdrawal from a battle in which we did not belong and one which we could not win. The heat of anti-war sentiment caused the unlikely situation of a sitting president recently buoyed by victories in civil rights to not even run for reelection.

Work for change was not finished, so the decade didn’t cede to the next in line and carried momentum right into and beyond 1970.

Unlikely events including American soldiers firing on and killing American students at Kent State University in 1970 and the incumbent president obstructing justice in order to gain reelection in 1972 typified the early years of the seventies.

Then, suddenly, the frenzy that had been a way of life for nearly twenty years stopped cold turkey. The activity of the 1960s fell off a sheer cliff, vanishing with the closing of a helicopter door. The escapee was, none other than Richard M. Nixon, the only American president ever to resign the office. He was disgraced over unlawful activity in both politics and war. When he quit being president, the sixties were over.

December 1, 1955 (Rosa Parks’ protest day) all the way to high noon, August 9, 1974 (Richard Nixon’s disgrace day) bracketed the hectic, violent, inspired time that is referred to in American lore as the sixties.

Few times in history have produced so much mass change. The laws abridging American black citizens’ rights, especially to vote, were legislated away.  And, no longer would high officials be taken at their word. Greed, power, and bigotry took a severe blow.

Therefore, I believe the time deserves to be considered an era akin to the Crusades or the Age of Enlightenment. I’d like to propose an official language usage change. Because of the impact of those years, the fact that it was indeed an era ushering in a new age–the age of Aquarius–I suggest we grant the phrase capital letter status. Henceforth, the years from 1955 to 1974 shall be cited as “The Sixties.” Take it or leave it. I like it